Here We Stand
by Spooky Jr
Summary: Fill in the blanks for SUZ. Takes place before Closure aired. Scully's POV.


TITLE: Here We Stand  
AUTHOR: Spooky Jr.  
EMAIL ADDRESS: CuteAndCudly@Yahoo.com  
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere. Just keep my name and   
addy attached.   
SPOILER WARNING: SUZ. Before "Closure"  
RATING: PG  
CLASSIFICATION: V/A  
SUMMARY: Fill in the blanks for SUZ. Takes place before   
Closure aired. Scully's POV.  
FEEDBACK: Is cherished! It'll only take a minute, please   
let me know what you think.  
SPECIAL THANKS: To my editor Melinda. You rock!  
  
  
Without further ado...  
  
"Here We Stand"  
by Spooky Jr.  
  
  
  
I stand beside him now, my hand, small and comforting,   
clutches his.  
  
We stand here together, alone. Side by side we take up   
silent vigil of the newly dug grave.  
  
The funeral ended for Tina Mulder almost a half  
an hour ago and yet we still stand.  
  
We are mere inches from each other, but our thoughts  
couldn't be further away.  
  
Even with the faith of my beliefs, and the abiding  
rule to forgive those who trespass against us, I shall   
never forgive Tina Mulder for the emotional scars she  
has left upon Mulder. Scars that will forever dig into  
his soul.  
  
I look at him and see the shell of a man that he once  
was, so alive and vibrant. The light that once shined  
off him so bright, now dulled into nothingness.  
  
I gently squeeze his hand in silent plea to please  
leave. To leave this grave that holds too much  
hurt. Too much despair and lies. I wish I could drive  
Mulder away forever. Drive him away from all this hurt  
and stop the emotional rollercoaster that he is on.  
  
When no recognition flashes across his face, I gently  
begin to speak.  
  
"Mulder?"  
  
He turns his head and his eyes lock with mine and I almost  
inaudibly gasp. There is so much hurt in those deep   
hazel orbs that it's drowned out the spark that once   
resided there.   
  
At that point my heart shatters and I swear I could  
almost hear the pieces as they crumbled.  
  
"Let's go home Mulder," I say, turning and tugging lightly  
on his hand upon which I still hold.   
  
He nods, looking back once more at his mother's  
grave before retreating and following me away from the  
site.  
  
We make it to where the car is parked, ours being the   
only one remaining.  
  
All the other's who had attended, which weren't that   
many, had long ago left. Went home and carried on with   
their lives. All but us. Mulder's life will never be the   
same and for that reason, neither will mine.  
  
The ride to Mulder's apartment is an uneventful one.   
I glance at every so often, but his position stays the   
same; staring numbly out the window, unseeing to the world   
passing by before him.  
  
Even as we arrive at his residence, he is oblivious to   
anything and everything. His body has become like an   
automatic robot, putting one foot in front of the other   
until we finally reach his door.  
  
I watch silently as he tries relentlessly to insert the key   
into the lock. The trembling of his hands making it almost  
impossible and I watch as once again the key slips and   
nearly falls from his grasp.  
  
My hand glides over his, giving it a light squeeze. His   
shaking hand calms instantly and I gently pull the keys   
from him.  
  
"It's ok," I tell him. God how much I wish it were.  
  
I let us into the apartment and watch as he instantly  
heads for the couch and flops down heavily. Laying back  
as if all the strength had been stripped from him.  
  
He leans forward resting his head in his hands. I stay  
back a few moments to give him some time alone.  
Only when I hear the slow shuddering sobs that emanate  
from him do I stride over there.  
  
His shoulders are quaking and the tears instantly well  
up in my eyes. I blink quickly to hold them back, I cannot  
breakdown. He needs me too much right now, I tell myself.  
  
I kneel down in front of him, resting on my knees right   
in front of his legs. My hands slowly glide up  
his arm, all the way up to his hands which still hold his   
head.  
  
I gently pry his hands away and lean up to kiss him  
tenderly on the forehead.  
  
He looks down at me, the same hurt still residing him  
his eyes.   
  
"Mulder, we'll get through this." I tell him softly.  
Those words sound so weak to my ears. So shallow and   
I realize that no words can just wipe away the pain.  
  
He shakes his head slightly and I expected him to repeat  
the all to familiar words, 'she was trying to tell  
me something.' Instead he doesn't and says something  
that was very unexpected.  
  
"I can't take this anymore."  
  
Oh Mulder, I think, but only when he sighs and looks  
at me do I realize I have spoken aloud.  
  
"I can't Scully. I just can't." And with those words   
the tears from his eyes begin to cascade down his  
cheeks.   
  
Almost automatically, I reach up and brush away  
the fallen tears and pull him to me. I wrap my arms   
protectively around his shaking form and hold him  
tight.  
  
This position feels all too familiar as the flash  
of the night before pops into my mind; me holding him  
as he cries on my shoulder.  
  
"Mulder," I whisper, my voice slightly distorted by the   
collar of his shirt. No response from him except more   
muffled sobs.  
  
I give up for the moment and opt for rubbing his back  
in slow circles, trying to give him some comfort. Some  
semblance of something to hold on to. His nerves  
are like thin shreds right now and at the moment  
I am grasping at them, grasping at something, anything to  
keep him from going over the edge. To keep him  
from falling into the dark abyss of despair and hopelessness.  
  
We sit, as time turns fluid and I no longer care to  
keep track of it. We sit silently as it passes us by  
mere minute by mere minute. I sit rocking him gently,  
our positions never changing.  
  
"Mulder, look at me."   
  
I say it gently, I need to break the silence that has   
passed between us.   
  
He looks at me, his eyes almost pleading. Pleading to answer  
all the questions stirring in his mind. Why'd she do it.   
Why couldn't she just tell him. His guilt forming heavily   
on his already hurting heart.   
  
I change positions and sit down on the couch beside him, sliding  
my right arm behind his back and rest my head lightly  
on his shoulder.  
  
I close my eyes for a few brief moments and I notice I am   
unconciously rubbing his arm. I stop and lift my head  
off his shoulder, taking a good look at him.   
  
He looks so weak right now, fragile and worn out.  
  
"Mulder, why don't you go lay down?" I suggest.  
  
He shakes his head no, "I can't sleep Scully."  
  
His voice cracks on my name and the tears in my  
eyes that I thought I had gotten rid of are back.  
  
"Please try Mulder. For me, please try. Why don't you at  
least just lie back on the couch. You don't have to go to  
sleep, just lay down and relax."  
  
He nods slowly and I stand up in order to  
give him room to lie down. He stretches out on  
his back, the length of his frame taking up  
the whole length of the couch.  
  
I softly sit down beside him on the couch,  
running my fingers through his hair. His eyes look  
up and lock with mine once again. I can see the sleep  
in his eyes and I can see his struggle to stay  
awake even against his feeble protests.  
  
"Sleep Mulder," I whisper, running my thumb  
lightly over his forehead. His eyes close slowly,  
his eye lashes flutter as he relents and falls into   
slumber. He breathing almost instantly evens out and  
his breaths become slow and steady.  
  
I lean down and give him a tender kiss on his forehead,  
whispering "sweet dreams," into his ear.   
  
  
The End.  
  
Feedback puuhlease! I really want to know  
what you all think. Also check out my webpage for  
my other stories. www.angelfire.com/scifi/spookyjr  
  
  
"20th Century Fox doesn't allow us to have writer's block.   
It's in our contract. And we are summarily executed upon   
display of any symptoms."  
--Chris Carter  
  



End file.
